Question Everything
by overlydramatic88
Summary: Am I being kidnapped by a cop?" I asked weakly. She looked at me through the rearview mirror, pausing as she thought that question over. "Yes," she answered honestly. "I suppose you are." -Original Fiction. R&R-


A/N: This was the start of a story I never finished. May continue if I get some reviews. :-) Enjoy! - Crystal

Tony was a person that I don't think I would ever fully understand. He was quiet, yet menacing. He had an aura of mystery around him, a soul that refused to show itself to another living human being. His dark eyes drew in everybody who met them, and one cold look from them could crush your spirit entirely. He was usually calm, very rarely revealing the anger beneath his cool exterior.

Today was different though. Apparently I had brought out his internal anger management issues, receiving a verbal lashing that stung more than rubbing salt into an open wound. Never again would I go against the wishes of my close friend, and had bit back the tears that had threatened to roll down my face. He wouldn't know how much I had been hurt by his words, and never would I reveal it to him.

His words weren't meant to be hurtful, nor were they intended to provoke anger from me. They were words of _disappointment._Tony looked out for me, a kindred spirit who saw the worst in humanity but wanted to believe in the best. He had seen things that had changed his views on the world, never being able to see the light side of things no matter how desperately he had clinged to the hope that the sun would finally emerge once more. He had known people that were dangerous, full of an edge that would harm all who came into contact with them. When I had asked for specifics once, my friend had clamped his mouth shut once again and started strumming an unknown melody on his guitar.

_Your still a child,_ he had said not long afterwards. _You needn't concern yourself with topics like that, nor am I willing to share them with you. _

I had wanted to tell him how that first comment had offended me, but I knew he would win any argument that started between the two of us. Tony wasn't a boy I had gone to school with since I had learned to read; he was a man who was only a few years older than myself, but had the maturity of somebody twice my age. While I was just a "child" in his eyes because I had just recently finished my high school years and still lived at home with my father, he had been on his own making his living as a musician and composer since my freshman year. Tony would never reveal his past to me, never mentioning any relatives or old friends. I had asked our mutual aquaintance about his family once and was told to mind my own business. The subject never arose again.

Perhaps my constant need for some information about my friend was starting to drive him mad. It had been ages since i'd met his brown eyes and asked for a shred of truth and honesty, and had finally took manners into my own hands.

Tony has a habit of using my cellphone, always erasing the numbers he dials after he's finished so i'm uncapable of tracing his calls later in the evening. As we sat in his dim apartment earlier this past week however, I couldn't help but to eavesdrop on his concersation. His tone was more urgent than usual, worry edging its way into his voice with every passing second. Words like "tragedy" and "chaos" jumped out and reached my ears as he left the room, preffering his privacy as usual. I sat in silence for a few moments, keeping myself occupied by toying with my long brown curls as I waited for my friend to emerge again.

He never erased the number after that phone call, as he had whisked me away from his apartment, driving me home before he had some "business" to attend to. My friend had been in such a hurry, that he had failed to cover his tracks and my curiosity had gotten the best of me.

I had no choice but to press "redial" after I was home in my bed that night, and was surprised when a familiar voice had picked up on the other end of the phone. Leona Leonard wasn't a friend of mine per se, but was known to most people in the small town we inhabited. She worked with the local police department, which shocked many people if they saw her out of uniform. Her femininity overrode her cop-mode while she was off duty, but had the strength of my entire high school football team when rubbed the wrong way. The phone belonged to somebody by the name of Nate Saunders, a name I had never heard of before. When I asked Leona how this Nate person was aquainted with Tony, she replied with the usual "leave it alone" that I often received when questioning Tony's aquaintances.

What I wasn't expecting was that this Nate person would go back to Tony and inform him of my late-night impromptu phone call, which was what started his lecture of disappointment in me. According to him, Nate wasn't a person he wanted me anywhere near and was more trouble than he was worth. Tony continued to rant and rave about how irresponsible making that call was, and that I unlocked a door that should've been shut for all eternity. I was confused to say the least, upset that he was angry with me.

After what felt like hours of not speaking to him, I gathered my belongings and left his small one-bedroom loft, heading out into the cool Spring air. I ignored the cars that passed me by, but stopped when I heard somebody call my name.

"Hello Hannah darling," a cool accent whispered into my ear. I jumped, turning to face the stranger. All I heard in that instant was the sound of footsteps rushing down the fire escape on the building next to me, a distant voice screaming my name. I didn't have a chance to look up and see who was running towards me before I no longer felt the ground beneath my feet, trapped in a stranger's car within a split second.

I saw fiery red hair from the driver's seat, noting that it belonged to Leona Leonard. I was under the assumption that the Aussie who had shoved me into the now moving vehicle could have been the person Tony had just been warning me about: Nate Saunders.

"You really should've seen this coming love," the Aussie said. "After all the occasions in which you've wanted and yearned for answers, you should've realized the day you got them was coming soon."

Leona was silent, keeping her eyes on the road as she sped through the not-so-busy streets. I was hoping that I would soon hear the sound of a roaring motorcycle engine behind us, but was afraid that I never would. Where exactly was I going?

"I know where i'm going," I heard Leona mutter under her breath. "Straight to hell for this." The Aussie rolled his eyes, glancing back at me from over his grey leather seat.

"Comfy back there?" he asked with a smirk. I had never straightened up, still in the position I had been when I was thrown into backseat. I didn't answer, slowly straightening myself up. "I'll take that as a no. There's a water bottle back there, mind tossing it up to me?" Once again, I refused to answer. He sighed, pouting as he turned around in his seat.

I cleared my throat as Leona started turning through the various radio stations, hesitant as I spoke to her.

"Am I being kidnapped by a cop?" I asked weakly. She looked at me through the rearview mirror, pausing as she thought that question over.

"Yes," she answered honestly. "I suppose you are."

Now I understand why Tony was upset with me: I was an idiot.


End file.
